


Tennessee Tornado

by scarletmanuka



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Both Boys Are 17, Established Starker, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Harley is a little shit, Harley is in trouble, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Peter Parker, M/M, Multi, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Teenker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-02-29 19:28:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18784684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletmanuka/pseuds/scarletmanuka
Summary: Peter didn't think that he'd ever been happier. He and Tony are together, he's the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, and the Avengers are back together again. Then one day an injured Harley Keener whirls into their life like a tornado, running from mobsters and nursing a massive crush on Tony.Things just got complicated.





	1. Chapter 1

The sun was warm on Peter’s face as he and Tony made their way back to the Tower, weaving amongst the tourists and business people, a baseball cap pulled low over Tony’s face keeping him anonymous. Warmth bloomed in Peter’s chest as he rode the high from his lunch date with his boyfriend, even if they still had to keep the fact that they were dating a secret from almost everyone. May knew, since Peter had vowed to never lie to her again after she had found out about him being Spider-Man, and he was pretty sure that Bucky, Nat, and Clint had figured it out (they _were_ spies after all) but since the rest of the Avengers spent most of their time upstate, they weren’t around often enough for anyone to have said anything as yet.

Once pardons had been arranged for what the media termed The Rogue Avengers, they’d returned to live at the compound, however Tony started spending more and more time back at the Tower (having pulled it from sale). The team had all had several long heart to hearts; tears were shed, frustrations were vented, and apologies given. They were a family once more but the genius had found that living so far away from the city made it difficult when Pepper needed him for Stark Industries, plus he’d later confessed to Peter that being so far away from the teen was even worse. The two had begun to spend more and more time with one another; working on projects, patrolling together, and heading up to the compound for the weekend and training together. Then one night when they were watching a movie, just the two of them, one thing had led to another and they’d ended up having the steamiest makeout session either had ever had before.

They’d taken things slowly, at Tony’s urging. Peter was inexperienced and Tony struggled some days with his conscience, and rushing into a physical relationship might have done more harm than good. So they’d kept it to kisses and a little bit of groping, until school wrapped for the year and Peter was on summer vacation. After Germany, his ‘fake’ internship had quickly become real and he’d arranged to spend the entire summer at Stark Industries which would look amazing on his university applications. He even had a room in the Tower for nights that he stayed late, but up until the 10th of August, he’d only used it a handful of times, mostly returning home to Queens. As soon as Peter turned seventeen, he and Tony had taken that next step and he found himself staying more and more at the Tower overnight - just not in the room that had been given to him. His most favourite thing ever was to wake up in Tony’s bed, his boyfriend sleeping next to him, some part of their bodies entwined as if even sleep couldn’t keep them apart.

It had been a grueling week. The project that they were working on together had stalled and both geniuses were frustrated that they couldn’t figure out what was going wrong. They’d spent many late nights in the lab, falling into bed only to sleep, too tired for anything else. They were both missing one another, despite spending almost every hour of the day together, and so they made an executive decision to have a lunch date. Peter had insisted that they walk, get some sunshine and what passed for fresh air in New York, and Tony had grudgingly agreed as he’d pulled on his baseball cap.They’d lingered over the meal, enjoying being able to talk about other things than just their project and Peter hoped that they could call it an early day as well so they could spend some quality time together that night. He was about to suggest just that as they approached the Tower when for a split second, Peter’s whole body tingled as his spidey senses went off and then a teen, roughly the same age as himself was stumbling against Tony, falling into his arms. He half expected Tony to shove the boy off of him, the way that he had to occasionally when fans got too handsy, but what he didn’t expect was for the genius’ eyes to widen, his arms to tighten around the boy, and then for him to scoop him up into his arms, bridal style. “Pete, get the door and clear a path,” Tony barked, already heading for the Tower entrance.

Confused and curious, Peter hurried past him and stood in front of the sensor to keep the door open and then walked in front of Tony as they made their way to the private elevator. The doors opened as soon as he pressed his palm to the button and he was almost shoved to the side as Tony rushed inside and instructed FRIDAY to take them to the medical floor. “It’s alright, Harls, I’ve got you, kiddo,” he added softly to the teen, who just stared up at him with a dazed expression.

Peter stayed pressed up against the wall, trying to stay out of the way, wracking his brains for who the hell this boy could be. He’d never even heard Tony talk about someone before that he was close to, who was around Peter’s age, but it was obvious that whoever this kid was, Tony cared about him. He was relatively tall and although slim, from the way his shirt pulled tight across his shoulders as his arms hung around Tony’s neck, it was clear that he was almost all muscle. Yet Tony didn't once ask Peter, with his super strength, to carry him even though his weight must be taxing for an unenhanced human.

There was a _ding_ and the elevator doors opened and Peter followed as Tony carried the boy through and into one of the medical bays. The staff were ready and rushed forward, alerted by FRIDAY to the situation as soon as Tony had entered the building. Peter stayed out of the way, simply watching, knowing that his questions would have to wait. He watched as the teen’s shirt was cut from his body, revealing taut muscles, skin pale from blood loss, and a nasty looking bandage wrapped around his torso, now a crimson colour from being soaked through.

“Fuck, Harley, when did this happen?” Tony asked, scooting to the head of the bed to keep out of the doctor’s way but close enough to stay in constant physical contact with Harley. He carded his hand through the tangled dirty blonde curls, his mouth pulled downwards in a worried frown.

“Two, maybe three days ago?” Harley mumbled. The doctor had begun unwinding the bandage and it pulled on the flesh underneath, causing the teen to gasp and his eyes rolled back in his head as he fell unconscious.

“FRIDAY, pull news reports from Tennessee for the past four days,” Tony instructed his AI. “I want to know what the fuck has happened.”

“On it, boss,” she responded.

The next hour was spent mostly in silence as Peter and Tony watched the medical team work. Harley, whoever Harley _was_ , was given a blood transfusion and intravenous antibiotics to stave off infection, his wound, looking suspiciously like it was from a knife, was cleaned and stitched, and several smaller wounds were also treated. The entire time, Tony didn't leave his side, didn't even _look_ at Peter, just gazed worriedly down at the stranger.

Until this moment, Peter hadn’t considered himself either the jealous sort, or the selfish type, however he couldn’t deny the ugly stirrings deep inside of him. Sure, this kid obviously meant something to Tony, but how special could he actually be if Tony had never spoken of him? He was injured, true, but he wasn’t _dying_ so would it kill his boyfriend to spare Peter a few words or even a glance? The more he watched, seeing only the side of Tony’s face, the more petulant Peter grew. It was true thatTony fussed when Peter came back from patrols with scratches and bruises, but since they faded within a few hours, he never got this worried. Just because he healed, it didn't mean it didn't _hurt_ though, so why did he not give Peter the same attention as he was giving this kid? And even though they had to be careful not to give away the extent of their relationship in front of the medical team, it wasn’t too much to ask that Tony even acknowledge him, was it?

After another fifteen minutes of being ignored, Peter was on the verge of tears, positive that he could fall off the face of the earth and Tony wouldn’t even notice that he was gone. He felt sorry for Harley, he truly did - the other teen had obviously gone through something very traumatic, and although it burned to know that his jealousy was overshadowing his compassion, the tumultuous emotions fizzing in Peter’s head was enough to make him simply not care. As his self pity reached its peak, he decided that the best thing to do would be to remove himself from the situation entirely. On silent feet, he slipped from the room and made his way to the elevators.

He had the rather juvenile plan of storming upstairs, packing up this things, and running home to May, then ignoring Tony’s calls when he finally noticed that Peter was missing. In his head, it would take at least twelve hours for this to happen and he would spend those hours curled on his bed at home, crying his eyes out. In reality, it was about three minutes - the time it took him to walk to the elevator and for it to reach the penthouse - before FRIDAY was speaking to him.

“Peter?” she asked. “Boss wants to know where you’ve gone? Are you okay?”

Suddenly feeling silly and embarrassed, Peter scrambled to find an excuse for leaving, one that would make him appear mature and rational. “I figured I’d make Tony a coffee,” he said, moving towards the kitchen.

“There are coffee making facilities in Medical,” FRIDAY helpfully pointed out.

“Yeah, but they don’t have the special blend Tony likes,” he explained.

“I see. I’ll pass that along to Boss.”

“Uh, sure, thanks, Fri.”

Peter finished making the coffee and after mentally scolding himself for being so childish, he made his way back down to the Medical floor. The team of doctors and nurses had gone when Peter got back to the room and Tony sat by the bed, one hand resting on Harley’s arm. His eyes brightened as he saw his boyfriend and he smiled gratefully as he took the coffee. “Thanks, baby, you’re the best,” Tony murmured. He stuck a leg out and hooked an ankle around the leg of another chair and pulled it over, gesturing for Peter to sit. Once he did, he took a long swallow of coffee and then with a quirk of his lips, said, “You must have questions.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, yeah I do. Who the hell is Harley?”


	2. Chapter 2

The story of Tony issuing a challenge to The Mandarin wasn’t new to Peter - he’d watched it live on television along with the rest of America. What had happened next _was_ new however. The media had reported on the showdown on the docks, of the daring rescue of the President by Iron Man and Iron Patriot, of how the Mandarin had turned out to be a simple actor, that the real villain had been a man named Aldritch Killian, but they had never explained what had happened in between Tony being reported as missing, presumed dead, and his sudden reappearance. Tony walked Peter through the events step by step: how JARVIS had pulled him from the ocean and flown him on autopilot to the last programed flight schedule; how Tony had stumbled through the woods in the freezing cold, stealing a poncho from a mannequin to stay warm; and how he had broken into someone’s garage to take refuge, which was where he’d met Harley. He’d only been a boy at the time, and he had been the one who had made Tony realise that even without his suit, he was still Iron Man, that he could still stop the bad guys.

“If you’re nothing without the suit then you shouldn’t have it,” Peter said softly.

Tony huffed out a small laugh and rubbed at his face. “He was only ten at the time but he was smart enough to see that.” He smiled fondly at the unconscious teen.

“So what happened?”

“Well, we got attacked by Killian’s Extremis buddies in town, Harls saved my life, I saved his, then I went after the Mandarin and figured out that he was just a figurehead, that Freaky Fabio was actually behind it all. I ended up being captured and it was there that they told me that they had Pepper and that they had injected her with Extremis. I ended up escaping once my suit had charged up - it was the Mark 42, the _Autonomous Prehensile Propulsion Suit_ so it could hone in on my location and come to me, piece by piece. Rhodey and I tracked them down, there was the mother of all fights, which Pepper ended with her freaky new powers, and then I blew up all my suits in a gesture of good faith for Pep that didn’t actually make a difference. Our relationship ended not long after, yadda yadda yadda, the rest is history.”

“So I’m guessing that you stayed in touch with Harley?” Peter prompted, trying to keep Tony on track.

“Yeah,” he replied with a smile. “He was a little engineer, after my own heart, and I pimped his garage with all the toys he could ever want.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “As you do.”

Tony shrugged. “You know me, pet, it’s kinda how I show affection.”

Peter wanted to both hug Tony and strangle him, wishing that he could make his boyfriend see that he was loved for who he was, not what he could buy people.

“Anyway, over the past seven years we’ve stayed in touch. He sends me plans for stuff that he’s building, I’ll sometimes email him with news from here, that sort of thing.”

Frowning, Peter swallowed hard. “You’ve never mentioned him.”

“The last thing I wanted was the media getting hold of it, making his life hell by stalking him for interviews, for anything that they could hold over me. I have so little privacy as it is, I tend to hold those I care about close to my chest.” His eyes met Peter’s and they were full of something he couldn’t quite recognise. “Just like how I try to keep you out of the spotlight.”

“I get that, but you never told _me_ either. Did you really think that I would go to the press?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why didn’t you ever tell me about him?”

Tony sighed. “I don’t know, Peter. It wasn’t for any nefarious reasons - it just never came up.”

He looked so tired and stressed that Peter decided to let the matter drop. “What do you think happened to him?”

“No idea, but when I find out who did this to him, they’re going to fucking pay.” He said it so fiercely that Peter felt a ripple of goosebumps down his spine.

Before Peter could even respond to that, Harley stirred in the bed, his long lashes fluttering as he pried his eyes open, squinting against the light. “Tony?” he rasped.

“Hey, kiddo,” he murmured, reaching out and taking Harley’s hand. “I know I’ve been nagging you to visit but I didn’t think you’d be so dramatic about it,” he teased.

Harley smirked. “Didn’t think you’d you’d appreciate anything less than full on dramatics, old man.”

“You know me so well.”

“Well yeah, we’re connected, remember?”

Tony chuckled. “Yeah, champ, we really are.”

Connected? What the hell did _that_ mean? Peter realised he was frowning and quickly worked to school his face into a neutral expression before Tony noticed.

“So, you wanna tell me what happened?” Tony asked. “Cos the doc tells me that you’ve been stabbed, and you bled all over one of my nice suits, which is gonna make my drycleaner _pissed_.”

Harley didn’t answer at first, just looked over at the side table where a carafe of water was sitting. Tony noticed and quickly poured him a glass and then helped the boy to sit up. Harley winced but was soon resting comfortably against the pillows, taking small sips of water from a straw. “Thanks,” he said, his voice less hoarse now.

“So?” Tony urged.

“My drop kick of a father happened,” Harley said bluntly.

“He _stabbed_ you?” Tony asked, aghast.

He gave a small shake of his head. “Nah, not him directly, people he pissed off.”

“But he’s been out of your life for years now!”

“Yeah, well, apparently he fell in with the mob and then I guess he skipped out on them like he skipped out on Mom and me. They didn’t like that much and came after us.” There was a slight tremble in his voice and his jaw was clenched and even Peter, who didn’t know him could tell that he was trying his best to keep composed.

“What did they do?” Tony all but whispered.

Harley opened his mouth to reply but could only choke out a sob and his eyes welled over. He began to cry in earnest and Tony quickly jumped off his chair and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the teen gently into his arms. “Hey, it’s okay, you’re safe here, kiddo, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, I promise.” He murmured even more soothing words, his hand rubbing circles on Harley’s back.

Harley continued to cry, but eventually his tears dried up and he lay slumped against Tony, exhausted. Tony didn’t ask again but he didn't have to as Harley finally whispered, “They killed my mom. Shot her right in front of me when she didn’t have the money that Dad owed them, like she was nothing to them.” He sniffed before continuing. “I ran to her side but she was already gone. The next thing I knew, they’d grabbed the shower curtain and were rolling her up in it.” He wiped at his nose with the back of his hand. “I lost it then, lunged at one of them, but he held me off, pulled out a knife and got me with it. They left me there, but took Mom’s body with them. I don’t know why, why would they leave me to die but take her? Why did they have to kill her in the first place, Tony? Why?” He began to cry again, softer this time, and Tony continued to hold him, rocking him softly.

“I don’t know, Harls, but we’ll get to the bottom of it, okay?”

“First dad, and now Mom and I’m all alone,” Harley sobbed, clinging tighter to Tony.

“No you’re not, baby, you’ve got me, you’ll always have me,” Tony crooned.

Peter knew first hand what it was like to not only have lost your parents, but to have seen someone that you love get shot right in front of you, knew how soul destroying it was. He swallowed down bile as he tried to ignore the sharp pang of jealousy over Tony calling Harley ‘baby’ and tried instead to concentrate on what he could do to help. At the moment it seemed like there was very little he _could_ do, so he just sat quietly, trying not to intrude on the moment.

A long time passed and Harley calmed down, and Tony got up off the bed, but kept a hand on his shoulder. “We should leave you to rest I guess.”

“No! Please, don’t leave me alone! Can’t I come with you? I hate hospitals so much.”

Tony considered this. “I’ll check with the doc and if they say that it’s okay, we’ll get you set up in a room up in the penthouse, okay.”

Harley nodded, relieved. “Yeah, please, I’d like that.”

Tony then finally turned to Peter. “Do you mind running upstairs and just double checking that the spare room across the hall from me is ready to go?”

Harley’s head swivelled around and his eyes fell on Peter for the first time. “Who are you?” he asked.

“Oh, Harley, this is Peter,” Tony introduced. He paused for a second and then added, “My intern.”

It hurt, hurt more than it should. Peter knew that they had to keep their relationship a secret but still, it cut deep to be dismissed as a mere intern when they were actually in love. He swallowed his pride and offered a small smile. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Harley said, and then turned back to Tony, seeming to dismiss Peter as unimportant. “You’ll be close by?”

“I’m not gonna leave your side, I promise.”

Peter slipped quietly from the room and headed for the elevator, his head pounding from his confused emotions. The doors slid open and he stepped inside, leaning against the cool wall and allowing his eyes to close briefly. “For fuck’s sake, Parker,” he told himself firmly, “get a grip. He just lost his _mom_.”

“Are you okay, Peter?” FRIDAY asked.

“Oh, uh, yeah, I’m fine, Fri.”

“Are you sure? Your breathing indicates that you’re on the verge of hyperventilating. Should I let Boss know?”

“No! No, please, it’s fine, _I’m_ fine. There’s no need to worry him.”

“As you wish.”

He arrived at the penthouse and a quick check proved that the cleaning staff had been thorough, even in rooms that were never used - the spare room was pristine. Peter asked FRIDAY to advise Tony and it wasn’t long before the elevator doors were opening once more and Tony was wheeling Harley out in a wheelchair. He flashed Peter a quick smile as he passed and then disappeared for ten minutes as he got Harley settled. When he returned, he pulled the door almost fully closed behind him, leaving it open just a crack. With a jerk of his head, he indicated that Peter should follow him through to the living area, saying softly, “He’s just drifting off again. Don’t want to disturb him.”

The soft lights of the living area did nothing to hide the dark bags under Tony’s eyes, the worried glint in his eyes, nor the angry set of his jaw. Peter immediately pulled him into his arms, trying to give his boyfriend what comfort he could. “You should rest too,” he said, brushing a kiss to Tony’s temple. “You look dead on your feet.”

Tony nodded, he head dropping down to rest on Peter’s shoulder. “Yeah, soon. I want to set a search algorithm first so FRIDAY can start tracking these fuckers down.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, okay, I understand, but come to bed afterwards?”

“Um, yeah, I’ll go to bed, but uh, maybe you should take your room for now?” Tony suggested.

Peter froze. “Sorry?”

Tony seemed unable to meet his eyes. “It’s just, I’ll be up and down through the night, checking on Harls, and it’s risky if you’re in with me. He might see.”

His lip was trembling and in a small voice he asked, “Are you ashamed of me, Tony?”

“What? No!” Tony cried, and pulled Peter into a firmer hug. “You know we have to be careful, pet; we can’t afford anyone else finding out.”

“It’s not illegal, Tony, I’m seventeen. Why does it matter so much?”

Tony sighed and stepped back, putting space between them. His mouth was pulled down into a frown, the same one he wore whenever they had this argument. “Because you might be of age, Peter, but I’m still three times your age. No one's gonna think that that’s okay and I don’t want your life ruined by bad press.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take!” Peter hissed.

“Well I’m not!”

“Don’t you think I should have some say in it?”

“Dammit, Peter, you agreed to this when we first got together. We keep it quiet until you’ve finished high school and have been at university for at least two years.”

He couldn’t help the pout on his lips and knew that he was whining. “But I don’t _care_ , Tony. What difference will a few years make?”

“I grew up in the media spotlight, baby, so I know what it’s like.” He placed his hands on the teen’s shoulders and squeezed them gently. “Why can’t you understand that I’m doing this for you? If I could, I would shout it from the rooftops, but that’s not in your best interests.”

“Fine,” Peter said, pulling himself out of his boyfriend’s grip. “Whatever. I’m going to bed.” He stormed off and went straight to his room - the room that hadn’t been slept in once during the seven months that they’d been together. He wasn’t enough of a brat to slam the door but he did kick his shoes off, watching viciously as they smacked against the far wall. He got into bed and snapped at FRIDAY to turn the lights off, then lay there, waiting.

Tony didn't follow him.

Realising that this was the first time that he'd ever gone to bed without at least kissing Tony goodnight (the night’s they’d been together anyhow), he buried his face in his pillow and began to cry. He suddenly felt very, very alone.


	3. Chapter 3

As soon as Peter woke, he knew that he wasn’t alone in the room. His spidey sense wasn’t going off so he knew that it was someone that he trusted, and given the circumstances, he was pretty sure that it was Tony. Figuring that he couldn't avoid his boyfriend forever, he rolled over, taking in the sight of the man.

It was obvious that Tony hadn’t slept at all during the night. He looked drawn and wan, with dark circles under his eyes. He offered Peter a small smile and then stood from the chair he was sitting in and moved so he was perched on the edge of the bed. A hand came to rest tentatively on the teen’s shoulder and he looked unsure. It was shocking for Peter to see Tony like this instead of confident like he normally was. “How are you feeling this morning?” he asked quietly, his voice slightly hoarse.

Peter shrugged. “I didn't sleep well.”

Tony sighed. “I’m sorry I upset you, baby. I know that yesterday must have been hard on you, especially since you didn't know who Harley was.”

A tiny part of Peter didn’t want Tony to be apologising - he wanted to retain the high ground of having a reason to be angry with him, but he knew that that was simply childish. In fact, he knew that he’d been behaving rather childishly himself yesterday and it shamed him somewhat to have Tony be so nice about it. They had both been in the wrong to some degree and he decided that it was time that he stepped up and so he lifted the blanket in invitation. Tony wasted no time in joining him in bed and he pulled Peter close and buried his face in his hair. “It was hard,” Peter admitted, “seeing you with him.”

“Oh, pet, there’s nothing between Harley and I like you and I have.”

“Really? Have you seen him? He’s gorgeous - how could you _not_ be interested?”

Tony shook his head. “He doesn’t hold a candle to you, Peter. Trust me, there’s nothing to be worried about.”

“I couldn't help it, Tony. It was like I was invisible to you. The whole afternoon I spent sitting there in silent support, and you didn't once acknowledge me, and then when you finally did, it was to tell me that I had to sleep alone. Do you know that made me feel? Like I’m not important to you, like I’m something to be ashamed of.” He was proud of the way that his voice didn't crack once.

“Oh, Peter, I’m sorry I made you feel that way,” Tony said, pulling back so he could gently cup Peter’s cheek. “I guess I took you for granted, just assuming you’d be with me while I dealt with the situation.”

That made Peter feel even worse. “I _was_ with you, and I _will_ be with you, I just wished that you’d acknowledged that.”

“I honestly didn't mean to ignore you.”

“I know, Tony, I know that what Harley was going through was the priority. I’m not saying that I wanted you to ditch him and spend the rest of the day with me - it just would have been nice if at the end of the day we could have fallen asleep together, that’s all.”

Tony sighed again and leaned forward until their foreheads were pressed together. “I would have loved that, honestly. I was just worried, baby. I don’t want to lose you and I know what the press are like. If they find out now, they’ll come for you and I’m so scared that they’ll scare you away from me,” he reiterated his point from last night.

“ _Nothing_ could ever scare me away from you, Tony.” Peter waved self deprecatingly at himself. “Super hero, remember? I’ve faced down worse than the press.”

“You don’t understand what they’re like, Peter. They’re not a villain who you can take down and leave tied up for the cops - they’re like a swarm of mosquitoes; they appear harmless at first, then they get annoying, then the constant buzz begins to wear you down, the little stings get harder and harder to ignore, and eventually you just go insane. They are persistent, relentless, and uncaring and they will not stop until they have a scoop on you that the public will eat up.” He looked so tired and resigned that Peter thought that his heart may break. “I’m not doing this to be a control freak, or to keep you hidden like some dirty little secret,” he continued, his voice soft. “All I’m trying to do is to protect you and those that you love, because don’t for an instant even think that they will leave May alone, or Ned, or Michelle. It’s not only _you_ who will be harrassed, Peter but everyone you care about. I wouldn’t be surprised if they start re-showing news footage about your uncle’s death.”

Peter went cold. “They wouldn’t, would they?”

“You bet they would - you’ve seen the sort of stuff they post to get to me and that’s _with_ an army of SI lawyers keeping them at bay.” He pulled the teen close once more and tucked Peter’s head under his chin. “Look, Peter, I’m not a tyrant - if going public is something that you really, truly want, then I won’t say no. All I ask is that you give it some thought first, do some research, see how they’ve treated other couples with an age gap, talk to May. Don’t run in blind because you’re upset with how careless I was with your feelings last night, ‘kay?”

It made sense, it really did and so Peter nodded. It wasn’t so much that he even _wanted_ to go public, he just wanted Tony to agree that they _could_ if they wanted. “Okay, that’s fair. I promise I won’t do anything rash.”

“I love you, Peter.”

“I love you too.”

“Ready to come out and have some breakfast? You haven’t eaten anything since lunch yesterday.”

“Sure.” He paused, took a deep breath, and then offered the olive branch up the rest of the way. “Is Harley awake? We can always have breakfast with him if you want.”

Tony smiled gently and pressed a soft kiss to Peter’s lips. “I’ll pop in and see how he’s feeling. I’m sure that he’d appreciate it if he’s up for it.”

Peter headed to the kitchen while Tony checked in on his patient and it wasn’t long before he was joining him to help prepare breakfast. “Am I making enough for three?” Peter asked.

“Yeah, please,” Tony said, wrapping his arms around Peter from behind and leaning his chin on the teen’s shoulder, watching as he poked at the omelette that was gently cooking in the pan. "Mmm, I love when you make omelettes."

“I know. Is there anything Harley can’t have? Do I need to make something different?”

“Nah, that will be fine for him. Kid eats anything that you put in front of him, he’s not fussy.”

Peter tried to keep himself from tensing up at the fond tone in Tony’s voice, mentally berating himself for letting it affect him. Just because he was dating Tony, it didn't mean that the man couldn’t care about anyone else.

They finished making the food and Peter picked up two plates and Tony led the way with the third. He knocked once on the door and then pushed it open with his knee, beaming at the boy on the bed. “Morning, how’re you feeling today?”

Harley pushed himself up into a sitting position, wincing a little as he did so. He was still pale, his honey brown curls almost glowing in contrast to his skin. “Yeah, not too bad. No point bitching, is there?”

“Well, you could, I just wouldn’t listen to you.”

“Do you ever listen, old man?”

“I’m pretty sure that you talked me into several panic attacks, so the evidence points to me listening, yes.”

Harley smirked and held up his hands in a _what can you do?_ gesture. “You been cooking?”

“Actually, Peter has,” Tony said, handing the plate over to him.

“Huh.” Harley glanced over at Peter. “Didn’t know that housewife duties now applied to internships.”

“Hey,” Tony childed. “Pete offered to cook you breakfast to be nice - don’t be a dick about it.”

The other teen managed to look contrite. “Yeah, alright, sorry.” He offered Peter a small smile. “Thanks.”

“I was cooking anyway, figured I could make enough for everyone,” Peter said. “You’re lucky that Tony didn't inhale them all on the way here - they’re his favourite.”

Harley’s eyes narrowed a little at this but he didn't say anything, just tucked into his food.

They’d almost finished their breakfast when FRIDAY interrupted them. “Boss? My search has finished - you might want to come and have a look at the results.”

“Sure thing, baby girl.” He stood up and waved Peter back down when he also stood. “Why don’t you stay here, keep Harls company?”

It was the last thing that Peter wanted to do but he nodded in acquiescence and sat back down. “Yeah, okay.”

“Alright, I’ll be back a little later.” And then he was gone.

An awkward silence descended on the room as the two boys were left alone. Peter kept his eyes on his plate, pushing the last of the omelette around with his fork, trying his best to politely ignore Harley.

“So how long have you wanted to fuck him?” Harley suddenly asked out of the blue.

Peter choked and looked up, eyes wide. “ _What?”_

Harley rolled his eyes. “Don’t bother denying it, I’m not blind. It’s obvious that you want his ass.” He looked dreamy for a second. “Don’t blame you, really. It’s a nice ass.”

Peter spluttered again, and knew that his cheeks were flaming. “Huh?”

“God, are you normally this slow? How the hell did you land an internship here in the first place?”

This just made Peter mad. “I’m not stupid,” he spat.

“Coulda fooled me,” Harley drawled.

Peter glared but didn’t say anything else, not giving in to the antagonising.

Harley smirked again, and Peter found it highly unfair how sexy it made him look. “You never answered the question.”

“What question?”

“How long have you wanted Tony?”

Peter sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “I’m not talking to you about this.”

“Shame. Woulda been nice to have someone I could swoon over him with.”

Peter decided to throw the question back at him. “Well what about you? How long have you liked him?”

“Fuck, I dunno - like, since my first wet dream? Staring that ass of course.”

“You never thought about trying something?” Peter didn’t really want to know the answer to that but couldn’t help but ask.

Harley scoffed. “Yeah, right - like he’d ever go for someone our age. Nah, he’s just my crush, I know nothing would ever actually happen.”

Peter nodded but kept quiet, not quite sure that he could lie convincingly right now. Harley had seen almost immediately how Peter felt about Tony and as much as he had been arguing that it wouldn’t be a problem if anyone knew, he suddenly didn’t want Harley to actually know the truth about them. He wasn’t sure if it was because it might put Tony in an awkward position with no warning, or if it was because he was worried that Harley might get ideas. Maybe a little of both.

“Right, well since you don’t wanna spill the beans about your massive boner for Tony, why don’t you tell me what you do here for your internship?” Harley suggested.

“You really want to know?”

He nodded and gestured to his torso. “Sure, why not? I gotta do _something_ to pass the time while I wait for the doc to come and check on me.”

Peter nodded, knowing that he could talk all day about the projects that he and Tony had worked on in the lab. “Yeah, alright then,” and proceeded to tell him.


	4. Chapter 4

For the next week, Peter hardly saw Tony. The genius had spent that first full day hidden away in his lab, going over the information that FRIDAY had found for him, only emerging in the late evening when Harley was sleeping off a dose of painkillers and Peter was sitting by his bed, playing on his phone. He had pulled Peter from the room and then kissed him fiercely before dropping a bombshell. “I tracked down who did this to Harls,” he announced, “and I’m going after them.” Peter had tried to insist that he would accompany Tony but he had been adamant that the teen stay behind. “I don’t trust Harley’s safety to anyone else but you, pet. I need someone here to watch over him, to keep him safe, and well, just to keep him from doing anything stupid.”

“But Tony, I can help!”

“You can - by _staying here_.” He’d used his best puppy dog eyes and Peter had been helpless to argue further against him. “Please, Peter, please do this for me.”

Peter had gestured helplessly. “What about the actual Avengers? Surely one of them could come and stay here from the compound?”

“Peter, pet, please. I need someone that I can trust here, and well...as far as I’ve come with Rogers and the others, I’m not comfortable trusting them with this.”

“But you trust me?”

The answer had been a kiss so bruising that Peter was sure that he could still feel it, an entire week later. Tony had left and other than two very brief visits to the Tower (to grab a few hours of rest and some more supplies), and a handful of text messages, he was off the grid. And so Peter was stuck alone with a strange teenager who was holding a flame (big enough to call for aid for Gondor) for Tony. To make matters worse, Harley wasn’t _stupid_. It was almost immediately that he began asking questions.

“Tony said that I’d be safe here but the only person he’s left me with is you.” He gave Peter a long, appraising look, as if seeing him in a new light. “Intern, huh? What exactly is it that he’s teaching you?”

Peter did his best to keep his voice steady. “I told you about our projects yesterday.”

Harley didn't look convinced. “Uh huh - tech and engineering stuff. Ya sure he ain’t also teaching you to save the world, fight off super villains, and to wear tights?”

“Iron Man doesn't wear tights!”

A crooked grin spread across Harley’s face. “ _That’s_ the part you’re going to refute?”

He was definitely on dangerous ground here. Peter gestured down to himself, pointing out his NASA t-shirt and his unzipped hoodie with the Starfleet engineering insignia on the breast. “Do I _look_ like a superhero?” he asked, with as much skepticism as he could muster.

Harley dragged his eyes slowly down over Peter, from head to toe and then back up, and there was no mistaking that he was taking the opportunity to really check him out. His lip curled into a leer and he said, “Well, you’re not ripped like Captain America but you’re pretty fine.”

Blushing furiously, Peter tried to get back to the point that he’d been trying to make. “I’m short and nerdy - I’m not exactly superhero material.”

“And Tony is a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist which isn’t exactly the cookie cutter image of a superhero either,” Harley pointed out.

Figuring that he needed to distract Harley from this train of thought, Peter kept it to a topic that he knew the other teen couldn't help but digress to. “Yeah, but have you seen how ripped _Tony_ is? His biceps are _huge_ and definitely give Cap a run for his money, and his abs - have you ever calculated how much core strength would be needed to fly the Iron Man suit? The sorts of G’s he’s pulling are insane.”

Harley sat up quickly, his face alight with enthusiasm, but it was quickly replaced with a grimace. “Ow, too soon,” he gasped. Peter helped him to lie back down in a more comfortable position and found him hovering over a blissed out looking Harley as he began to expound on how Tony was the perfect specimen of a man.

A stray thought crossed Peter’s mind, wondering if this was how Harley looked after coming and he jerked back almost violently as he registered what had been going through his mind. He tried to cover it by moving back to his chair but luckily, Harley was so busy describing the V of Tony’s hips that he didn't even notice.

They were interrupted by the doctor appearing at the door and Peter took the opportunity to flee to the kitchen, making the excuse of getting them a late breakfast. He hoped that having his dressing changed, plus Peter making pancakes would distract Harley even more and all talk of superheroes and Tony’s ass would be forgotten. It wasn't even that Peter didn't _want_ to talk about Tony’s assets - it would actually be nice to be able to wax lyrical over how sexy the man was with someone who completely agreed - but he knew that he had the worst poker face in history and sooner rather than later he would slip up and reveal something that only someone who had been intimate with Tony could actually know.

Harley may have still had his suspicions but he didn't raise them again, for which Peter was grateful. They spent the first day in the guest bedroom, and after their small talk had gotten awkward, and FRIDAY refused to give them updates about what Tony was doing, Peter had left to bring in his PS4. They spent the rest of the day playing various games, riling each other up in their competitiveness and insulting each other. The later it got, the more good natured the insults became and by the time Peter was bringing in pizza for dinner, he had to admit that Harley wasn’t really that bad. Yeah he was loud, and brash, but he had a wicked sense of humour, and was smart to boot. He reminded Peter very much of Michelle and he realised with a start that he could actually find himself becoming good friends with him.

Perhaps this week wouldn't be as bad as he’d thought it would be?

The next day, Harley was antsy and fidgety. Peter could understand - he hated being confined to the same four walls for extended periods of time as well. After the doctor had been in to check on Harley’s wound, Peter helped him into the wheelchair and then took him out into the living room where the floor to ceiling windows made it much less claustrophobic. They got settled onto the large comfortable couch and picked up where they’d left off in their PS4 battle.

Later in the day, Peter noticed the flashes of pain that crossed Harley’s face more and more often and he realised that other than day one, he’d not seen the teen take any of his pain meds at all. He went and fetched the bottle and silently handed it to Harley, who bit his lip and looked away. “I don’t like how they knock me out,” he admitted, trying to sound gruff but ultimately sounding vulnerable instead.

“I can, um, well, I can stay with you, while you sleep,” Peter offered.

Harley thought about this, chewing his lip even more, leaving it red and swollen. “I don’t want to be a burden,” he then said.

Peter huffed. “You’re not. It’s not like I’m going anywhere anyway. I’ve got work to do on my project and I can do that here as well as anywhere.”

Without meeting Peter’s eyes, Harley nodded and quickly swallowed the pill, before he could change his mind.

“I’ll go and get my stuff. I’ll be right back,” Peter told him and then went to fetch his Starkpad and a small spiral notepad that he used for scribbling down ideas in the middle of the night. When he returned, Harley had managed to get himself horizontal on the couch, but he’d pulled his knees up, leaving a Peter sized space at the end. His eyes were closed but his jaw was tense and he clearly wasn't asleep, but it appeared that he also didn't want to have to outright ask Peter to sit with him. Knowing something about feeling alone in the world and just _needing_ someone to be close, Peter didn't think twice, he simply sat down at the end of the couch and swiped open the Starkpad, getting right to work.

A few minutes later, Harley’s legs slowly uncurled and they hesitantly moved down the couch until his toes were pressing against Peter’s thigh. Peter didn't pause in his work, tried to give no indication that he’d even noticed and slowly Harley relaxed until his breathing evened out and he was asleep.

An hour later, Peter got a text from Tony, asking how everything was going. In response he snapped a photo of Harley, passed out on the couch, and added the caption, _‘I must be boring him.'_

Tony replied with a laugh cry emoji and a kiss emoji and that was the last response Peter got from him, even after Peter asked how things were going on his end. FRIDAY assured him that Tony was safe, that he was just staying off the grid, and Peter spent a long time just staring into space, imagining exactly what it was that Tony was doing. He hated that he was out there alone, and even though he was completely capable of handling something as low key as the mob (who weren’t the nastiest thugs on the block now that they’d dealt with the Chitauri and enhanced super villains) Peter wished that he’d been able to go, so _someone_ had Tony’s back. He briefly considered alerting Colonel Rhodes so Iron Patriot could back him up, but dismissed the idea when he pictured how betrayed Tony would feel. He was a grown man and if he got into a situation that he couldn't handle himself, he was sure to call for backup. Peter just had to quit worrying.

When he finally came out of his thoughts, he discovered that he was staring at Harley - specifically the small patch of skin visible on his stomach where his shirt had lifted up. It was pale and smooth and Peter found that he had to fight the urge to reach over and touch, or worse, pepper it with kisses.

He shook his head, forcibly removing those thoughts from his mind, wondering what the hell had gotten into him. He and Tony had been so busy recently that they’d not had time for sex, but blue balls were no excuse to have such thoughts about someone other than his boyfriend. He picked up his Starkpad and threw himself into his project, trying his best to ignore the warmth of Harley’s feet pressing against his leg.


	5. Chapter 5

It was on day three when they saw the first news reports of Tony’s activities, though no one but the two teens knew that it was Tony’s doing. The TV was on in the background as Peter made them dinner, while Harley perched on a barstool, his elbows on the counter to ease the pressure on his abdomen. He’d taken to giving a running commentary of everything that Peter was doing, turning it into some sort of culinary olympics, making Peter snort with laughter. He’d decided that Harley was fun to be around and he was less and less surprised to find that he was actually enjoying himself. Late at night, with the space in the bed next to him cold and empty, Peter would sometimes feel guilty that he was having fun while Tony was off extracting revenge, but it never lasted long. Tony had asked him to stay and keep Harley company and he knew that his boyfriend wouldn't begrudge him a friendship with him.

Peter was flicking pieces of carrot into the pot, trying to break the record for Root Vegetable Long Jump, when the volume of the television suddenly increased, a sure sign that FRIDAY thought it best that they pay attention. Since she didn't say anything, Peter knew immediately that it was in relation to things that Tony had forbidden her to speak of and so he shushed Harley and directed his attention to the television.

_Police are baffled by a series of events occurring over the past week, revolving around the Romano crime family, one of the Five Families that make up the mafia’s presence in New York. Various associates have been rounded up and left for police to collect after anonymous tipoffs, and two of their capos have been found dead. One of our sources has heard rumours that Savario Romano, boss of the Romano Family has gone into hiding, and that he has called a meeting of The Commission for the first time in decades._

_Speculation is now rife as to whether this is the beginning of a new mob war, an internal play for power, of perhaps there is a new vigilante on the scene, who wants to shut the Mafia down. The Organised Crime Taskforce has not released a statement as yet._

The news channel broke for an advertisement and the two teens turned to look at one another as they digested this information.

“So, it looks like he’s keeping his identity out of it,” Harley commented.

“Yeah, well, if they knew it was Iron Man doing it, they’d probably send goons directly here,” Peter pointed out.

“True.” Harley swallowed hard, then added, “He killed two of them.”

Peter was inclined to agree but there wasn’t any proof. “We don’t know that for sure - maybe it was a coincidence? After all, the mob isn’t the safest profession in the world.”

Harley arched a brow at him. “You really believe that?”

He sighed. “No, no I don’t.”

Harley ran a hand through his sandy curls, clenching his fingers into a fist around the locks. “He’s got blood on his hands because of me.” The way he said it made it clear that he was more worried about Tony’s conscience than caring that they were dead.

“Tony protects his own,” Peter told him, picking the knife up again and continuing to make dinner. “He’s not evil but he’s no saint. He wouldn't have killed them if he wasn't certain that they had something to do with your mom’s death.”

At the reminder of what he’d lost, Harley abruptly withdrew into himself and he pushed the stool back from the bench and got up. “I’m going to go lie down for a bit.” Then he was gone, the sound of his bedroom door shutting echoing down the hall.

Peter felt terrible, and if he had followed, perhaps listened at the door, he was sure that he would have heard Harley crying. He fought the urge to go after him and to offer what comfort he could - he didn't really know Harley at all and perhaps the teen preferred to grieve alone? Just because Peter had needed other people around him when his parents and then Ben had died, it didn't mean everyone did. The last thing that he wanted to do was to intrude and to project his own coping mechanisms on the other teen, especially when he was the one who had brought it up in the first place.

He picked up his phone and sent off a quick text to Tony.

_I wish you were here so bad._

He never got a text back from Tony but after midnight, in the quiestest, darkest hours, Peter felt his mattress dip and strong arms wrapped around him. “Tony?” he croaked, still groggy with sleep.

“Shhh, pet, go back to sleep,” Tony murmured, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“You’re done?” he asked, pressing himself closer against Tony.

“No, not yet,” Tony replied quietly, rubbing a hand up and down Peter’s back. “Needed to grab some stuff, and I couldn’t leave without seeing you.”

His heart stuttered and Peter tilted his head, seeking out Tony’s lips in the dark. The low moan that Tony made in response to the kiss bolstered Peter and he used his spidey strength to flip them so that he was hovering above Tony. The kiss quickly turned frantic and their erections pressed hotly against each other through their clothes. Needing Tony like he needed air, Peter shifted around until he could remove his sleep pants while Tony undid the zipper on his jeans and shoved them down his hips. If he thought that they were just going to rub against one another, Tony had another thing coming.

Peter fumbled blindly in the side drawer for the bottle of lube and squeezed a hefty dollop onto his palm. He reached down between them and took hold of Tony’s cock, twisting his hand up and down and around, coating it liberally with the lube. Then Peter reached around to smear the rest against his entrance, and since they’d not done this for a while, he slipped a finger inside as well to slick the way. Then he was slowly lowering himself down onto Tony’s cock and large hands were gripping his hips hard enough to bruise.

It burned, more than he was expecting, and Peter bit his lip to distract himself from the pain. At one stage they’d been fucking so often that neither of them needed any prep, but it had been weeks since they’d last done this. He was going slow and that helped, but it was still almost too much for Peter, all of his senses overwhelmed. He knew that he should have taken the time to actually stretch himself, maybe use one of their butt plugs first, but he’d been impatient and hadn’t wanted to waste the time.

Tony proved how well he knew Peter though and he stilled the teen, then flipped them back over, pulling out as he did so. Peter whined at the loss but the instant relief from the burn of the stretch made it lack any real heat. “Hey, baby, shhh, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” Tony whispered and then two of his fingers were slipping inside of Peter, filling him up nicely but not overwhelming him. He slid them slowly in and out for a minute or two, all the while pressing hot kisses to Peter’s stomach and chest, and then he began to fuck them in and out harder and faster, until Peter bgean to pant and moan. “Fuck, look at you, pet,” he said reverently. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“s’dark,” Peter muttered. “You can’t see me.”

Chuckling low and throaty, Tony nipped at Peter’s hip bone. “I _know_ how beautiful you look like this, so my compliment stands.”

“Want you, Tony.”

“You ready for me now?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“Fuck, yes, Tony - I’m sure.”

“It won’t be too much?” he teased.

“For fuck’s sake, Tony, hurry up and fuck me already!”

Tony laughed again, and pulled his fingers free, then lined himself up and sank inside. “So impatient, baby,” he crooned.

Peter didn't have a comeback for that since he was too busy revelling in how full he was feeling. There was no burn this time, only pleasure and he reached down to take his own cock in hand but it was slapped away.

“No, let me,” Tony said, his voice husky, and then his large, warm palm was curling around Peter’s cock and he was jerking him in time to his slow, deep thrusts.

It had been too long so neither of them lasted long, and Tony held him close as they breathed heavily against one another, their foreheads pressed together. “I love you,” Tony murmured, kissing the tip of Peter’s nose.

“Love you too,” Peter whispered, hugging him tighter.

Tony left to get a damp cloth and he cleaned them up before he pulled Peter into his arms once more, just holding him close. Peter fell asleep, surrounded by Tony - his scent, his warmth, his touch, and he slept better than he had in weeks. Of course, that made waking up alone all the harder.

Peter lay there, staring up at the ceiling, and if it wasn't for the ache in his ass and the wetness that dribbled out when he moved, he would have thought that it had all been a dream. He was glad that Tony had stopped to see him, instead of just slipping into his workshop to get whatever he needed, but it also left an ache in his chest. He wanted Tony back, to be done with this self-imposed mission, to not leave again.

He sighed and dragged himself out of bed, knowing that nothing was going to change and he just had to deal with it. He couldn't help but pull on one of Tony’s hoodies though, needing to be surrounded by his scent for just a little longer (and if he was putting off showering to keep the traces of Tony inside him for as long as possible, well that was no one’s business but his own).

Harley was already up when Peter shuffled out to the kitchen, and it took Peter a moment to realise that the other teen was shirtless. He blinked, then blinked again, and then noticed that Harley was struggling with his dressing.

“How ‘bout instead of just ogling me, you come and help?” Harley drawled, one eyebrow cocked.

Peter blushed and hurried to deny it. “I wasn't _ogling_ you - I haven’t had coffee yet and I’m still half asleep.”

Smirking, Harley handed over the dressings. “Uh huh, whatever. You keep telling yourself that, princess.”

His blush deepened at the nickname, but he shook it off and took the dressings and lay them to one side. He knelt down in front of him to examine the wound, checking that it was healing well and was happy with what he saw. The stitches were clean and holding, and the bruising around the wound was fading into greens and yellows. “It’s healing well,” he noted.

“Is that your professional medical opinion?” Harley teased.

Unable to explain how familiar he was with wounds such as these from not only his own adventures as Spider-Man but from being around other superheroes for so long, Peter just grunted and began pulling the plastic wrapper off one of the dressings. “Are we just covering it with this or does it need to be wrapped as well?”

“Doc says I need to keep it wrapped for another coupla days,” Harley replied. “Since it restricts my movement a little, it’ll help me to not do anything overly athletic.”

Peter snorted. “I don’t think Vegetable Olympics count as athletic.”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up.”

Still grinning, Peter positioned the sticky dressing over the stab wound and then gently pressed it on, running his fingers around the outer edge to ensure that it was attached. His eyes were drawn to the goosebumps radiating away from the wound and Peter glanced up to see Harley resolutely looking away. Deciding not to say anything, he picked up the roll of bandages and began to wind them around Harley’s torso, his arms almost wrapping around him the whole way as he passed the bandage from one hand to the other. HIs fingers accidentally brushed against Harley’s ribs and the teen made a small, pained whine, and Peter immediately went to apologise for tickling him when he noticed something else.

A distinct tenting of Harley’s pyjama bottoms.

It was hard to miss really, since Peter’s face was at waist level, kneeling as he was, and he suddenly realised what this would look like if someone were to walk in on them. He swallowed hard and tried to ignore the growing erection, caused by his clinical touch, and quickly finished wrapping the bandages around Harley. “Right,” he said, and then had to clear his throat as it was suddenly dry. “All done.” He pushed up from the ground but Harley suddenly stepped back and Peter automatically reached out to steady himself, his hands falling on Harley’s hips.

Harley’s eyes were wide as he looked down at Peter, half on his knees before him, his hands so very close to his cock, and Peter didn't have to imagine what he looked like from that view. Tony had made a video of them a while back, Peter on his knees, sucking his cock, and he knew that that angle was flattering to him. His eyes looked big and doe like, the shadows made his lips seem almost red, and his cheekbones sharp.

The thought of Tony was like a slap to Peter and he startled, jerking backwards. “I uh, I have to go and um, call my aunt,” he stammered, scrambling to his feet.

Harley turned away from him, his arms wrapping around himself as he hid his traitorous body from Peter’s view. “Yeah, I should go and brush my teeth or something,” he muttered, and Peter could see that he was blushing furiously.

Peter hurried to his room and shut the door, leaning against it and breathing hard. What the fuck was _wrong_ with him? He was with Tony, loved him so much, but for a brief moment, while he was on his knees, he had had the strongest urge to just lean down and suck Harley’s cock into his mouth.

“Fuck, Tony, please forgive me,” he whispered into the empty room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you familiar with the Five Families, yes I made up a new one. I don't want the mafia grumpy at me for using real people in my fic lol


	6. Chapter 6

The morning seemed to drag by awkwardly as both teens avoided each other as much as they could, but by lunchtime, Peter’s stomach was rumbling and he couldn’t hide in his room any longer. He ventured out into the kitchen and found Harley resting comfortably on the couch in the living area, feet propped up on one end, a comic book in his hands. “I’m making lunch,” he announced, as he got the bread down and began rummaging around in the fridge for fillings. “Want anything?” He kept it deliberately casual, figuring that if he didn’t say anything, maybe Harley would silently agree to pretend that nothing had happened that morning.

“I could eat,” Harley replied and he carefully got into an upright position before hauling himself to his feet. He grimaced and clutched at his stomach but seemed to be moving much easier than he had been when he crossed to sit at the breakfast bar.

“I can do ham and salad or turkey?”

“Ham is good.”

“Let me guess – you like your meat the way you like your women? Salty and slick.”

Harley snorted. “Thought you figured out by now that I ain’t into women.”

Peter shrugged. “Bisexuality is a thing, you know. I’m pan myself.”

“Pan? I don’t know if we had that in Tennessee.”

He rolled his eyes and began assembling the sandwiches, wondering how the hell they’d gone from their accidentally intimate moment that morning to speaking of their sexuality at lunchtime. Oh right, probably because he had absolutely no brain/mouth filter and he only had himself to blame. That would be why. “Just cos you don’t know what it is, doesn’t mean that it didn’t exist there,” he said.

Harley raised a brow, his lips quirking. “Okay then, Mr Smartypants. What does it mean?”

“It’s when you’re attracted or emotionally attached to people no matter what their sex or gender is.”

Frowning, Harley asked, “How is that different to being bi?”

“It’s kind of more encompassing, I guess. Like, it doesn’t matter to me if someone is transitioning or is gender fluid. The gender bit doesn’t really matter, it’s more about who they are as a person.”

“So basically you’re like, a sexual hippie? Peace, love, and all that jazz?”

“Yeah, that’s totally what I am,” he replied sarcastically.

Harley grinned and suddenly the tension that had been thrumming between them since that morning was broken. Peter finished off the sandwiches and handed over a plate, then circled the breakfast bar so he could take the seat next to Harley. They began eating, and then, between bites, Harley very offhandedly asked, “So, does it smell like him?”

Peter choked on his sandwich and coughed for a minute straight, trying to get his lunch out of his lungs. His eyes were streaming by the end and Harley helpfully thumped him on the back. When he could finally breathe again, he asked in a raspy voice, “Excuse me, what?”

Harley rolled his eyes. “Don’t play dumb, Parker – it’s beneath you. We both know that that’s Tony’s hoodie that you’re wearing.”

Peter blushed, not having thought that the other teen might recognise it. “So?”

“So, does he know that you’re wearing it?”

“No,” Peter said, truthfully enough. He frequently wore Tony’s clothes but his boyfriend had no idea that he was wearing something of his right now.

“So what, you stole it from his bedroom?”

“Maybe…”

Harley grinned devilishly. “ Poke around anywhere else in there?”

Peter frowned. “Looking for what exactly?”

Shrugging, Harley said nonchalantly, “I dunno – toys, his porn stash, maybe an unpublished sex tape?” He noticed Peter’s glare and held up his hands in surrender. “What? Don’t tell me that you’ve never searched out all of his leaked tapes before!”

“That’s not the point. I’m not going to snoop through his things!”

“Except his wardrobe to steal his hoodies.”

“That’s a bit different.”

“How?”

Peter’s glare intensified. “It just is!”

“Whatever, Parker. Anyway, you never answered the question.”

“What question?”

Harley spoke slowly, as if speaking to a child. “Does. It. Smell. Like. Him?”

Peter didn’t want to admit that that was _why_ he was wearing it so he just said, “I don’t know.”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Harley cried, and then hooked his arm around Peter’s shoulders and pulled him close, burying his face against his chest. He inhaled deeply and then sighed in bliss. “Fuck, it does. _So_ good.”

Peter froze, unsure of what to do with his hands, which fluttered above the golden curls tucked beneath his chin uselessly. Harley didn’t seem inclined to let go anytime soon, just remained pressed against Peter, sniffing like a bloodhound. Peter couldn’t help but notice a spicy scent emanating from Harley, and realised with a start that he was wearing cologne of some sort. He couldn’t remember smelling it before, and wondered where exactly Harley had gotten it from, since he’d not arrived with anything and was still wearing the clothes that Tony had found for him. It was an enticing scent though, and it suited the teen -  Peter found that he rather liked it. That aside, this embrace – or whatever the hell it was - had gone on long enough to become awkward and Peter patted Harley on the back and said, “I think you’ve got the gist of it now.”

Harley pulled back, and Peter couldn’t quite tell if that was a faint blush high on his cheeks, or if it was just from the heat of having his face buried against Peter’s chest. “Uh, yeah, yeah I do.”

“So, what did you want to do this afternoon?” Peter asked once they were separated.

“Dunno. Watch a movie?”

“Sure. Anything in particular?”

Harley shook his head. “How ‘bout you pick?”

Peter grinned. “Ever seen this really old movie called _Equilibrium_?”

“I’m not sure, I don’t think so.”

“Trust me – if you had, you’d remember watching Christian Bale kick butt for sure.”

“Sounds good.”

He popped the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth and then got up off the bar stool. “You won’t regret it.”

oOoOo

By unspoken agreement, they didn’t start another movie after the first ended, just changed the channel to the news coverage, hoping to hear more about what Tony had been up to. There was a small segment about the disappearances plaguing the Romano Family, but there wasn’t any further information than there had been yesterday. Peter pushed himself up from the couch and headed for the kitchen. “There’s a frozen pizza – want me to throw it in for dinner? Or do you prefer something else?”

“That’s fine. I’m not bothered.”

“Yeah, Tony said that you eat anything.”

Harley waggled his eyebrows. “He doesn’t know the half of it.”

Peter snorted but didn’t deign to respond. He popped the oven on to pre-heat and then pulled the box from the freezer, spying a garlic bread as well and deciding that it would be a nice accompaniment. He was just unwrapping the bread when he heard a sound coming from Harley, somewhere between a gasp and a choke. “What’s wrong?” he asked, hurrying into the living area.

Harley didn’t reply, just stared with huge eyes at the television and that’s when Peter saw it. Big red letters rolled along the bottom of the screen, announcing _MISSING TEEN – POLICE ASK PUBLIC FOR HELP – BODY OF WOMAN FOUND._

The blonde newscaster with the serious expression on her face was saying, _“Police found the body of forty eight year old Marion Keener in parkland near the Tennessee River late yesterday evening.”_ The image changed to a photo of who Peter presumed was Harley’s mom. ” _Ms Keener had suffered a fatal gunshot wound to the head and was wrapped in plastic. When visiting her house to inform her next of kin, Police say that they found signs of a struggle, and blood that is presumed to belong to her seventeen year old son, Harley Keener, who has not been seen since last Tuesday.”_ Here the photo changed to show a school photo of Harley. _“Neighbours report that they had heard something akin to a gunshot on Wednesday, but dismissed it as one of Harley Keener’s science experiments.”_

The report cut to an old lady, standing outside a small house, with crime scene tape in the background. _“Young Harley was always making a racket,”_ the lady was saying, and a blurb flashed up identifying her as Mavis Smith, neighbour. _“He had a lab set up in his garage, see, and he would make all sorts of wonderful things. Bangs and crashes at all times of the day and night, but he’s such a clever lad that we really don’t mind the noise. He’s going places, that boy, and I do hope he’s okay. It’s absolutely tragic what’s happened to his mother, simply tragic.”_

 _“At the moment there are no suspects,”_ the newscaster continued,  _“but police are asking anyone who may have information regarding the murder of Mrs Keener or the whereabouts of Harley Keener to come forward.”_

Peter looked over at Harley and saw him in a new light. Gone was the snark and bravado, gone was the incessant flirting and the confidence, and in its place was a scared, vulnerable, grieving boy. His face was drawn and pale, and his eyes were glistening as he fought to hold himself together. He continued to stare at the screen long after the newscaster had moved onto a new topic, and Peter hurried over to his side, sitting down close to him and throwing an arm over his shoulder. He rubbed at his back, but didn’t say anything, not wanting to push him.

It was a long time later that Harley finally spoke. “So, looks like I’m officially missing,” he said tonelessly.

“Not really – we know where you are.”

“Yeah, a whole two people know. Totally doesn’t count.”

“Well, it’s more than two,” Peter disagreed, “if you count the doctor and the medical team.” Harley huffed but his expression was a little lighter, which is what Peter had been going for. “You doing okay?” he asked softly.

Harley shrugged. “I guess. Well, not really, but you know what I mean.”

“You know that it’s okay to not be okay, yeah?”

“You read that in a fortune cookie?”

“Yeah, but in one of those high quality ones that Tony gets from that fancy Chinese place down the road. I wouldn’t use a second rate fortune cookie for this situation.”

Harley snorted. “Only the best for me, huh?”

“Yes, well, Tony would kill me if I wasn’t as hospitable as possible.”

Harley laughed again, but it very quickly turned into a sob and he turned and threw himself against Peter, hugging him tightly. Peter wrapped his arms around him and whispered soothing platitudes, knowing that there wasn’t really anything that he could say that would make it any better, trying instead to just be present. His shirt was soon soaked through with tears and he shivered slightly, and automatically he heard the heater behind him click on. Sending a silent thank you to FRIDAY for being so observant, he hugged Harley a little tighter and without even thinking about it, pressed a kiss against his curls. “It’ll be okay, Harley,” he promised him. “You’re not alone, you’ve got Tony, and you’ve got me. We’re not going anywhere. It’ll be okay, I promise.”


	7. Chapter 7

By the sixth day of their lockdown, Peter was starting to go a little bit stir crazy. He wasn’t used to sitting idly by while other people took care of the dangerous situations and he was itching to be out there himself, helping Tony, fighting alongside him. He was also worried that the absence of Spider-Man for so long would begin to be noticed. What sort of things were happening in his neighbourhood that he could have helped prevent but instead he was sitting pretty in his ivory tower? He went so far as to slip the suit on, thinking that he could sneak out for a couple of hours while Harley was sleeping, but was hero-blocked by Karen.

“Peter, Mr Stark has strict instructions that you are not to use the suit unless it is a dire emergency. Your heart rate is steady and seems to indicate that there is none. Is there a situation that I am not aware of?”

He groaned. “Maybe? I’m not sure because _I’m not out there to check."_

“I’m sorry, Peter, but unless you can convince me that there is something dangerous enough out there to warrant you breaking your promise to Mr Stark to stay and defend Harley, then I cannot allow you to use the suit.”

It hurt, more than it probably should have, to have the AI accuse him of trying to break his promise to Tony. Mostly because half the reason he wanted to get away from here so badly was so that he wouldn't break a _different_ promise to Tony - the one where they had promised that they were exclusive to one another.

The tension between he and Harley had been increasing, but Peter wasn’t sure if it was simply because of their enforced proximity to one another, or because he was genuinely attracted to the other teen. Okay, so the _attraction_ bit he really couldn't deny - Harley was gorgeous after all - but Peter knew enough overly-attractive people that it took more than just a pretty face to even make him _look_ , let alone even consider cheating on Tony. Not that he was, considering it, that is. Not at all. Nope. He hadn’t allowed the thought of Harley kissing him or pushing him against a wall, or doing anything else to cross his mind because he was _with Tony_ , and Peter loved him and he wasn’t going to betray him like that. He simply wasn’t.

And so he really just needed some distance, that was all. He needed some fresh air, and several miles between himself and Harley so he could get some perspective back. Yep, that’s what he needed - perspective. Sure, Harley was cute, and he was funny in a snarky and sarcastic way, and he was smart too - just as smart as Peter, but more in an engineering way, but those were really just descriptors of _Tony_. Peter was pretty sure that his body was just confused because all of the things that he loved about Tony were currently sprawled out on a bed two rooms away and he was lonely and missing his boyfriend. If you put them in completely different circumstances...well, fine, maybe he’d still be conflicted but he wouldn’t be having a mini mental breakdown over the fact that his thoughts had strayed to what sort of things Harley’s capable hands could do, but would instead probably just turn to Tony and kiss him senseless and then he wouldn’t ever think of it again.

But Tony wasn’t here and Peter missed him and he was confused and he just needed to get out, but he couldn't leave. His eyes welled up as he hit the button on his suit and pulled the loose material down from his shoulders.

“Peter?” Karen asked softly, the mask still in place. “Are you okay?”

“I miss him, Karen,” he admitted. “I miss Tony so much and I just want him back.”

“I’m sorry, Peter.”

He pulled the mask off and threw it across the room, then went and rummaged in his drawer for a shirt to sleep in.

“Peter?” FRIDAY asked, almost hesitantly. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

He paused at the edge of the bed and asked, childishly, “Can you bring Tony back here?”

“No, Peter, I’m sorry but boss is busy.”

“Then no, there’s nothing you can do. Please just leave me alone.” And he tumbled into bed, pulled the covers up over his head and tried to ignore the urge to go into Harley’s room and curl up against him just to feel a warm body next to him.

oOoOo

The doctor removed the stitches from Harley’s wound the next day and with instructions to take it easy, informed him that he was going to be fine. Harley fist pumped once he was gone, and kept pulling up his shirt to poke and prod at the jagged, angry scar, showing off quite a lot of smooth, enticing skin as he did so. Peter tried to keep his eyes averted, but they kept straying back against his will, and his fingers twitched to push the shirt up the rest of the way.

 _Tony!_ he reminded himself sharply, and pulled out his phone to check for new messages, but there were none to distract him.

“I bet those fuckers weren’t expecting me to be healed so soon,” Harley snarled triumphantly as he once again marveled at the healed wound.

There wasn't much Peter could say in response to that, so he just hummed in agreement.

“I bet Tony is kicking their butts. I wish I could watch,” Harley added, wistfully. “Have you ever seen him fight?”

“Once or twice,” Peter admitted.

“With the suit?”

“Yeah.”

“That must have been so cool! The one time I saw him fight, he didn’t have a suit, and at the time I didn't think much about it - I was only little - but fuck, it was damn sexy. It’s been the start of so many fantasies since.”

Peter nodded, and when he spoke, his voice was a little croaky. “I bet.” The thought of both Tony _and_ Harley pushing him up against a wall, pinning him down, attacking him with their lips and tongues had just crossed his mind and most of the blood in his body rushed south, straight to his dick.

Harley frowned at the odd look on Peter’s face and then his eyes dropped downwards and widened as they saw the obvious tent in his jeans. His lips turned up into a predatory smile and he drawled, “Seems like that’s one of your fantasies as well.”

Before Peter could scramble up some sort of response, FRIDAY interrupted them. “Boss says you have to get out, _now!”_ she barked.

“What?” Peter cried, his head whipping around to one of FRIDAY’s sensors out of habit. “Is he okay? What’s happened?”

“He was overwhelmed and had to call in a suit so they now know who he is. They got the jump on him and it took him a while to fight them off. It’s only now that he’s realised that four of the men are gone and he believes that they’re on their way here. You have to go, now!”

“Okay,” Peter said, jumping into action, his erection completely gone. He ran to the kitchen and opened the second drawer down, rummaging amongst the utensils for one of the emergency pairs of web slingers that he kept hidden around the place. He snapped them onto his wrist and then grabbed Harley’s arm. “Come on, we gotta go.”

“Are you crazy? This place is locked down tighter than Fort Knox - we’ll be safest here!”

“Tony wouldn’t have told us to go if he believed that,” Peter disagreed and dragged Harley across to the elevator. “Basement, please, Fri,” he said as the doors shut.

“The new R8 has a push button start, Peter,” she informed him. “I’ll get you in, so take that one.”

“Thanks, Fri.”

The thought of driving one of Tony’s precious Audi’s momentarily lit up Harley’s face but the excitement didn't last.

“Peter! I’ve lost all video feed of the basement cameras,” FRIDAY informed him. “I think we’ve been breached.”

“Shit,” Peter swore, and grabbed Harley’s arm once again. “Once these doors open, you follow me and do exactly what I say. Understand?”

Harley swallowed loudly and nodded, the danger that they were facing abundantly clear now. “Understood.”

Peter watched the illuminated number display drop as they flew downwards, flashing past ten, then five, then the ground floor, and stopping at the basement. He took a deep breath, pulled them to the side of the car, and waited for the doors to open.

Gunfire met them, and Peter didn't hesitate, just leapt out of the elevator and pushed Harley down behind one of the nearest cars for cover. Sparks flew as bullets ricocheted off metal and Peter waited a moment for their first volley of shots to cease, for the air to clear and for the men to assess the damage. He breathed in and then let it out, long and slow, before he jumped up and flung a web out at the closest man. It wrapped around him and he yanked his arm backwards, sending the man flying over Peter’s head and crashing against a concrete pillar. He didn't get up.

From the corner of his eye, Peter saw a second man running at him, and he turned and ran at the wall, running up it so he could flip over the man, landing behind him. He jabbed him in the throat, causing his whole body to spasm and the gun dropped to the ground. Peter kicked it away and then webbed the man’s arms to his torso and pushed him over like a log to crash onto the ground.

“Get off me!” he heard Harley shout and he saw that the remaining two men had gotten the jump on the teen. Harley was struggling against the man who held him from behind but stilled as the cold metal of a gun barrel pressed against his temple.

“That’s enough!” the fourth man snapped.

“What do you want?” Peter asked, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Well first we just wanted what we were owed,” the man sneered, “but then we found out that Keener had friends in high places. Who knew that that scumbag knew the mighty Iron Man?”

“He doesn’t,” Harley told him. “My loser dad has never met Tony Stark!”

“Is that right?” the man cooed. “Well, well, well, looks like it’s not a problem anymore that we sent Keener off to a watery grave to join his ex-wife. If it’s you who’s buddies with Iron Man then it looks like we’ve still got some leverage.”

Peter knew that Harley hated his father, but still, to hear so callously that he was dead - Peter wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy.

“You fuckers!” Harley screamed, and began once more to struggle, ignoring the gun at his temple.

Peter knew that he couldn’t let this get any further out of hand, he had to end it, now. He just had to figure out how he was going to do that without Harley getting hurt.

He had to act fast and so he shot a web out of his left slinger, aiming for the gun pressed against Harley’s face, while at the same time, he threw a web from his right slinger, aimed at the fourth man’s gun. He pulled back and then threw both guns as far away as he could and then he turned his back on Harley, hoping that the teen could take care of himself for a minute while he concentrated on the last remaining goon.

“Oh, you’re going to regret that, laddie,” the man sneered, and lunged at Peter, fists flying.

They traded blows, the man’s superior height and girth giving him the initial upper hand but Peter was faster and stronger and he ducked away from a blow that was sure to knock a regular person out cold and then ducked low to punch the man in the solar plexus, sending him skidding backwards. Shaking it off, the man dove at Peter’s legs and he just managed to jump up and flip over the man before he was taken down. For a large man, the goon had fast reflexes and he was immediately on his feet and lunging once more for Peter, this time wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him to the ground. He straddled Peter’s legs and punched him across the jaw, sending Peter’s head snapping to the side. Before the man could land another blow, Peter got his hands under him and shoved with all of his might, sending the man flying up to the ceiling. He rolled out of the way and when the man came crashing back down, with a shower of concrete dust, he hit the ground hard, out cold.

Peter jumped to his feet and ran across to where Harley was fighting with the third man. He was clutching at his stomach, having obviously been hit in his wound, but the man had a split lip and a grazed jaw and wasn’t faring any better. Peter shot webs at the man, one after another, after another, and then he yanked forward, dragging the man across the ground of the parking garage, towards the first man. It took a few moments but he finally had all four men webbed together and immobile. Even if they were conscious, they wouldn’t be going anywhere.

“I was right,” Harley said from behind him, breathing hard.

“About what?” Peter asked, rather absently as he was wondering if he could go and retrieve his suit before the cops came.

“You’re not just a regular intern.”

Peter shrugged and turned around to find Harley _right there_.

“My hero,” Harley said in a husky voice and then he pushed Peter against the wall and kissed him.

It took Peter a moment and then he was kissing back, and it was almost an automatic response to being kissed but deep down he knew that he wanted it. It was everything that he’d dreamed it would be, until it all came crashing down around his ears.

“Looks like I’m interrupting something,” Tony said in a blank voice, and the two teens broke apart to see him standing there in his suit, with the faceplate retracted.

Peter’s eyes widened and he held up a hand. “Tony, it’s not, it’s not what it looks like, I swear!”

“Uh huh. Sure,” Tony said, and Peter saw the hurt in his eyes before the faceplate slid closed and he took off, flying low through the parking garage and disappearing, leaving only the acrid smell of the thrusters behind.

“Fuck,” Peter whispered and sank to his knees.


	8. Chapter 8

“FRIDAY, where has Tony gone?” Peter asked quietly, still on his knees, his arms hugging himself around his chest.

“He’s just returned to the penthouse via the landing deck, Peter.”

“Thanks.” He got to his feet, shaky and unsteady, and headed for the elevator.

“Wait!” Harley cried and he chased after him. “What the fuck was that?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Peter said tonelessly, and pressed the elevator call button.

“I’ve told you before - don’t bullshit me, Parker,” Harley snapped. He waved over to where they’d all just been. “I saw his expression, I know the look that Tony gets when someone messes with what’s his. You’re with him?”

Peter sniffed. “I was. I’m not so sure now, not after that.”

Harley’s expression turned aghast. “Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he said and reached out to touch Peter’s arm. “I would never have kissed you if I’d known.”

Peter pulled away from the touch, and shrugged. “I’m going to go and see if I can save my relationship with him. Though I wouldn’t blame him if he never wants to speak to me again.” The doors opened and he stepped inside. “I’m sorry about your dad,” he added, just before the doors closed. The last he saw of Harley as the doors slid shut was of the teen wiping tears from his eyes and looking broken.

The penthouse was silent when Peter reached it but he took it as a good sign that FRIDAY allowed him in. He’d half expected Tony to lock him out entirely. The lights in the hallway flickered and he smiled up at one of the AI’s sensors, relieved to know that at least she wasn’t angry with him. Following her hint, he headed down the hallway and made his way to Tony’s bedroom.

Tony was out of his suit and was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring off into space. Peter’s heart clenched when he saw him, covered in scrapes and bruises, much worse that the cut he had to his own lip from being punched. Of course, Peter would heal by dinnertime - Tony would heal as slowly as a regular person. He cleared his throat, wanting to announce his presence but he didn’t enter the room, just stood in the doorway, unsure of his welcome and not wanting to impose on Tony.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Tony said in a broken voice, not looking at Peter, just continuing to stare at the opposite wall.

“About what?”

“That you’d get sick of me so soon. After all, I am an old man now.” He gestured to himself with his right hand. “It’s not as shiny as a newer model.”

“No, Tony, don’t say that! I don’t want a newer model,” Peter promised..

“Huh, so that was someone else kissing Harls then? Maybe my eyesight really is failing in my old age because I was so sure that it was you.”

Peter sighed. “It was, but I didn't initiate it. Harley did, after I saved him.”

“Right, I see. Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because you were definitely kissing him back.”

Fuck, he sounded _heartbroken_ and Peter felt tears welling in his eyes, knowing that it was his fault. “Okay, look, yes, I kissed him back but it didn't mean anything, Tony. I love _you_ , I promise, and it was just a stupid mistake.”

“So you’re not attracted to him?”

He couldn’t lie, not now, not when he had to be one hundred percent honest if he was to have any hope of regaining Tony’s trust. “I am. I mean, who wouldn't be - have you seen him?”

Tony nodded. “Yeah, he grew up to be a good looking kid. You two will look good together.”

“Tony, I don’t want to lose you,” Peter pleaded, and finally he couldn’t stand the distance between them any longer and he entered the room and knelt at his boyfriend’s feet. He took hold of one of Tony’s hands and pulled it up to his lips so he could press a kiss to the grazed and bruised knuckles. “I love you.”

“I love you too, pet, which is why I only want what’s best for you. We both know that this wasn’t going to last - you’re so young and vibrant and I’m old and bitter. You need someone who can keep up with you, who will make you happy.”

“ _You_ make me happy!” Peter protested.

“But Harley would be better for you. I’m not going to stand in your way, Peter, I won’t ever stand in the way of your happiness.”

“Tony, really, it’s not what you think. Harley is in love _with you_ , okay. He’s spent the entire time that he’s been here talking non-stop about you, how much he wants you, how much he admires you. I don’t think he wants me, not really. I think I was just a substitute for you.”

“That’s not entirely true,” a voice drawled from the doorway and they both looked over to see Harley leaning against the frame. He waved at them. “Hi, it’s your resident homewrecker here, come to try and fix things.” His eyes were still red from crying but he seemed to have composed himself.

“And how are you going to do that?” Peter demanded.

Tony, however, looked intrigued. “What isn’t quite true?”

Harley gestured at Peter. “He was half right - I am in love with you, old man, have been for years.” He laughed a little self deprecatingly. “I actually thought that you would have picked up on that by now. Anyway, not the point - the point is, that Peter wasn’t just a substitute.” His intense eyes locked on Peter’s. “I kind of fell for you, too.”

“And how exactly is admitting that helping?” Peter almost yelled. “I’m trying to convince Tony to give me another chance, not convince him to give me up!”

“I’m trying to do what’s best for you,” Tony told Peter again. “You have someone who is your own age, someone that you can relate to, who wants you. You have to give it a try.”

“I don’t _have_ to do anything!”

“So what? You’d rather have neither of us?” Tony demanded.

“I’d rather have _you!”_ Peter cried, and then the tears began to flow in earnest. “Please, Tony, please give me another chance, I can’t lose you.”

“And I don’t want you to lose Harley. You obviously have a connection with him.”

“Can I ask a question?” Harley asked, raising his hand.

 _“No!”_ they both screamed.

Harley sighed and waited until they’d both realised how silly they were being. “Okay, fine, go ahead,” Tony acquiesced.

“Why does anyone have to lose anyone?” Harley asked.

“What the hell does that even mean?” Peter snapped.

“It means, sunshine, that you love Tony and are attracted to me. I love both Tony _and_ you. Tony loves you and tolerates me.”

“For fuck’s sake, Harley - I don't merely ‘tolerate’ you,” Tony said in exasperation, even in such a tense situation unable to allow the boy to think less of himself.

“You know what I mean - you’re not lusting after me like I’ve been lusting after you.”

“To be fair, I’ve known you since you were a kid. It’s a little hard to think of you in that capacity.”

“I’m not a kid anymore, Tony, and I’m not in Tennessee anymore either. I’m in New York and here, I’m the age of consent.”

“What are you saying?” Peter asked, totally confused.

“He’s suggesting that we form a triad,” Tony explained.

“What, like all three of us date each other?”

“Yeah, exactly,” Harley confirmed. “Surely Mr Smartypants has heard of polyamory, cos we _definitely_ had that back in Tennessee.” He cracked a smile as he threw Peter’s words back at him.

It seemed a little too easy, like there had to be some sort of catch. Peter looked back and forth between Tony and Harley, seeing hope in the teen’s expression and something thoughtful in Tony’s. “You’re actually considering this?” he asked his boyfriend.

“It has merit,” Tony admitted. “I don't want to lose you, Peter, but I want you to be happy.”

“And I don’t want you to give up your happiness for me, Tony. I won’t agree to this if you’ll just be miserable.”

“Tell me honestly, pet - is this something that you’d like to try?”

Peter took a deep breath, and remembered the feeling of Harley’s lips on his, of the way he felt against him, all too briefly, and he shivered. “Yes,” he admitted in a small voice.

Tony reached down to cup his face and brushed his thumb over Peter’s cheekbone. He smiled and then turned to look at Harley and his gaze became assessing, like he was looking at the teen in a brand new light. Peter suddenly understood that he was _allowing_ himself to look for the first time ever. He thought that he’d feel jealous of the scrutiny, especially given how he’d reacted when Harley first arrived, but the twisty feeling in his gut never came. He just felt excited. “Come ’ere,” Tony said, holding a hand out to Harley, who hurried over to take it before sinking down onto his knees next to Peter. “So, what do we all think? Do we all think that we can do this?” he asked.

Peter leaned up on his knees and kissed Tony softly before sinking back down. “Yeah, I think the three of us are smart enough to figure out a way for this to work.”

Harley took hold of Peter’s hand and then took hold of Tony’s as well. “I’m willing.”

“It was your idea so I bloody well hope so,” Tony said, rolling his eyes.

Peter laughed, and squeezed Harley’s hand. “This is insane.”

“Why’s that?” Tony asked.

“Probably because I suggested it,” Harley said with a wry grin.

“It’s just, you crashed into our lives like some freaking tornado, and turned everything upside down,” Peter told him, then leaned in to place a soft kiss on Harley’s lips. “But somehow everything seems to have ended up exactly where it’s supposed to be.”

“I never knew you were a poet,” Harley teased.

“A bad one,” Tony added.

Peter laughed and then dragged Tony down off the bed until he was sprawled across the two of them, and silently promised that he was going to write these two amazing men bad poetry every day for the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some people will be disappointed that there was no smut between the three of them but I never intended for that. The same goes for seeing Harley and Tony together. I guess what I'm trying to say (badly) was that this was Peter's story all along, exploring his feelings, and his reactions. It's open ended so you can imagine all you want what comes next - Tony's developing relationship with Harley, how the three of them work together, any obstacles they face. This is the end of this story - I won't be writing a sequel, but if anyone wants more, I'm happy for you to take up the (metaphorical) pen and write the next chapter :)


End file.
